True Colors
by mishatippins
Summary: More mesgtiel paint and shower time
1. Chapter 1

This was supposed to be fluff *wink wink

It was their first day off in months. No hunts, no rush, just a relaxing time. Dean was in the shooting range, testing an antique gun he found in the archive, and Sam was off doing something Castiel didn't really care about.

He liked staying home, in the bunker. It was comfortable, safe, and larger than it looked. He had a favorite spot in the living area, in front of Dean's massive television, right in the center of the massive couch. He would sit there, helping the boys go through the archives and often just reading to himself (reading had become a hobby), and often he would sit there and ponder life.

_Just like a human_.

"Castiel," Meg's familiar voice called, and turning around he saw his demon enter from the bunker's front door. "I got something."

His interest was peeked when the demon walked in with a paper container, trowing it down on his lap. He shuddered at the cold.

"What is it?"

She looked at him like he insulted her. "You've never had ice cream? Seriously?"

"I never ate."

"Touche'."

He watched her walk into the kitchen for a few moments before she emerged with spoons. He was examining the carton, looking at it with slight confusion, before Meg snatched it from him and pried open the top. "That's still sad."

"I understand your standpoint; it's how Dean felt about myself and sex," Cas paused to scoop a bit of the chocolate froze cream on the spoon. "It's wonderful."

"No shit it's wonderful," Meg scooted in on the couch beside him. "Cures any little broken angel problem you still got buried under your head."

"I don't have any problems," he countered. "Except you."

"Rude," she muttered, shoving her spoon in his face, a bit of chocolate cream landing just under his left eye.

"Meg!" Castiel let out a hiss, the cream colder than he expected, but he stopped himself from wiping it off when Meg moved her finger over the mess, Cas closing one eye in reflex but then watching her with the other. She noticed him watching her, and with a conscious grunt she licked it from her finger.

"Is this…the traditional way of consuming this?" she asked curiously, and Meg shrugged in thought.

"No, but who says we can't bend the rules a bit?"

—

His room was a mess, and he felt terrible about it. Multi-colors stained his previously white linen as Meg painted a devil's trap on his chest, the cold making him twitch. She was laughing, complete with her own paint marks, his hand print on her shoulder, tribal swatches under her eyes. Of course, they had traded out the ice cream carton for some actual "sex paint", as it was called (chocolate favored, though Castiel was sure chocolate couldn't taste that bad.

She was finishing her devil's trap when she bent down to meet his lips, Castiel's hand reaching up to cup her face.

"Ah-ah," she purred when he started to sit up. "You'll mess it up."

"It'll work still, you know," he breathed between kisses. "It'll make you stuck to…me."

"Maybe that's the plan, Feathers."

She was crawling atop him now, being sure to touch that sigil, her face blow his as she teased his lip with a fingernail.

"You have to work for it," she smirked, watching him lower his head to look at her.

"I always work for it."

"My human. My rules."

The ex angel scoffed, realizing what she meant. "More paint?"

"It took me a hour to finish that trap," she mused. "Paint a masterpiece.

"_And then lick it off me._"

Castiel dabbed his finger in the almost dried out container, first sliding a line across the edges of her circle, and then pulling her closer to him to force their lips to meet. he was drawing on her back, something small, he didn't care, but it seemed to please her in the way that she reeled back, sliding over him and letting him take over.

My masterpiece.

Castiel somehow managed to get on top her, still straddling inside her when he brought his blue fingertips over her green sigil, painting over it, and digging his mouth at her neck line.

She was clawing at his back, her fingers caked in red and green paint, and he feel some of it peel off her hands as she went down his back.

The entire ordeal was orgasmic and Castiel could feel her trying to keep herself from coming. That was, until Cas brought his hand up to massage her breasts, the ex-angel taking her in like a cyclone.

Meg let out a hiss and Castiel let himself go, a strange laugh parting his lips as he felt Meg collapse under him.

"What…the fuck are you…laughing at?" she breathed.

He rolled off her, the slam of his weight (what little of it there was) making her bounce slightly on her side.

"Dean will not be happy."

"It's not like he checks in here every ten minutes; he's not your mom."

"And if he sees us?"

"Showers are a magical thing, Clarence."

"Oh. I understand. You may use it first then."

"Please," she muttered. "Not till the morning, and we'll _share_, Cas. And besides, I can tell you're tired."

"No I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

He scowled at her and she giggled at him, taking up her idea as he cuddled up against her. He looked more ridiculous than he did before they fucked, paint was mix-matched all over his body and he had one definite pain circle around his right eye that seemed to make him look incredibly stupid.

Within an hour he was sound asleep, his body halfway across hers and his snore louder than usual. but she didn't mind.

She was gonna have a hell'a fun with him tomorrow morning.


	2. Bitter Sweet

Castiel loved showers.

He liked how the warm water felt on his back, how his skin turned from pink to bright red, how refreshing it was to be clean.

Maybe that was an after effect of being an angel, the need to be clean.

It was then he felt the touch of her hands around his stomach, absently wiping the paint from him. The water started to swirl shades of red, green and blue, and Castiel found himself trying to wash out sticky bits of paint from her hair.

The domesticity of the entire fair was disorienting, but Cas was growing used to having her in his arms for long periods of time.

He could tell she liked the water as much as he, and he liked who when she moved her skin from his it left a sort of imprint of the demon, a reminder of subtle care and warm feelings that seemed to mold them both together.

He was kissing her under the spray, enjoying both the pressure of her lips and of the beat of water on his back. She was smiling, laughing, making him laugh as it felt as though they were meant for this moment and that, perhaps, he was feeling humanity finally.

Things had changed, especially the two of them.

When they were clean, Castiel still didn't turn the water off. Locked in a kiss, he had her pressed against the cold tile and hand his hands in a mess of her tangled, wet hair.

It was odd, how they got there. How it took everything to get him…there.

Meg was eagerly taking him in and he was happy to abide, biting the sides of her face and tasting that sweet smoky flavor she harbored, wanting him, needing him.

He could feel her grab his dick, massaging the head and feeling her human moan against her. Castiel let out a muffled cry when she yanked him closer to her, forcing him to rub against her while he sucked at her neck.

It happened so quickly between the two of them, sex, touch, sex; if Castiel didn't know any better, he'd say he…

Well, he'd say he was in love with her.

The entire ordeal was something he assumed he'd never understand. Meg made him feel different. She was something brand new and amazing. His demon was powerful, strong, and she had the strangest ability to bring out a side of himself he didn't even know was a part of him.

"Meg," he muttered against her lips, feeling her maneuver around his thin body.

"What?"

"What is this sensation?"

"You probably need to poop," she said with a snark.

"No, it's internal." he said, running a hand from her shoulder to her hips before pressing his head against her neck.

"What do you mean?"

"This…feeling."

"You had feelings before."

"Not like this one," he looked up at her. "I feel it every time I look at you. Every time you're gone it's still there. When ever Dean mentions you, I _feel_ it.

"A lingering…a longing. I feel it and…And I don't know why."

She paused, for a long time, as the steam from the shower billowed up from the floor.

"Are you fucking trying to say you…that you're in love, Castiel?"

He blinked at her. He assumed that that was the correct label for the feeling. But now…

"I…don't know."

"You either know or you don't."

"I'm still…understanding."

He expected her to be angry with him, to swat him or disappear. But instead, she just looked at him.

"Did Sam ever tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"What I said to him, the night I 'died'. When you went to get the angel tablet."

"No?"

"He told me about Amelia. About how he loved her. I told him she was special, a rare creature. Something unique that pulled him off the life of a hunter.

"I…"

He had never seen Meg as flustered as she was. "I told him something."

"That was what he meant then? By unicorn?"

"So he did tell you?"

"I assumed he was referencing something I didn't bother to understand."

She laughed at him, before pushing up against the wall to press against him. "Gotta say, turns out I don't mind being stuck with a big dumb human."

He found himself smiling.

Instead of sex, or more kisses, they just stood there, holding one another. It was the first time Castiel felt any type of normalcy.

They stayed there until the hot water went cold and the two of them heard Dean yelling from outside the door.

_When sooner or later it's over_  
_I just don't want to miss you tonight_

_And I don't want the world to see me_  
_'Cause I don't think that they'd understand_  
_When everything's made to be broken_  
_I just want you to know who I am_


End file.
